At six years old, it was nothing to slip a ring, still cold from the fridge, onto my finger and say the words that would bind me to that boy all my days. The simplicity of it contrasts starkly with the twisting road that lies ahead of us as adults.

“I better go.”

With one finger, he tips my face back around and then kisses me. He tastes like French toast and possibilities, and I’m ravenous. In seconds, my hand is back on his dick and his fingers are under my skirt, begging entrance at the edge of my panties. He slips one finger under, inside.

“Fuck,” he breathes against my mouth. “How are you this wet already?”

Vaginal dryness, my ass.

I shift my hips just enough to create friction, ease the ache. He thumbs my clit and my mouth falls open. My thighs spread. My nipples harden in the bodice of my gown.

“Lord above,” I gasp, pulling his zipper down and slipping my hand inside his pants.

“Shit.” He presses his forehead to mine.

A car rushes by, shattering any illusion of privacy. We sit in the front seat, panting, reaching for some form of composure. His finger is still inside me, and he’ll have to remove it because for the life of me I cannot bring myself to ask him to. It feels too good.

“I should go,” I say for the millionth time, but make no move to do anything that would actually dislodge him from my body.

“Yeah.” He nods and huffs a laugh. “You said Lord above.”

“What? When?”

“When I was…” He pushes his finger in a little deeper, making me moan. He slowly withdraws. “When I was doing that, you said Lord above like your mother used to say.”

“Yeah, I do that sometimes.”

“Can I see you tonight?” he presses. “Will you stay?”

“Ez, maybe I shouldn’t until we—”

“We’ll be discreet. I can come pick you up.”

“That is not discreet.” I pause, biting my lip. “I’ll take an Uber.”

“Okay. I’ll cook dinner.” He moves forward to kiss me again, but I lean back, glancing around the empty street. “Tonight.”

It seems to require a Herculean effort for me to get out of his car. The pull, the temptation to stay there with him for as long as I can, is strong. After so many years apart, when we’re together, it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. All my molecules, every atom, is at peace, but stingingly alive. It’s like when your foot falls asleep, and the needles of sensation come with sudden movement. For so long he wasn’t in my life, and suddenly he is. And beneath the layers of pleasure and delight, there is a sick feeling that just as suddenly as I found him, I’ll lose him again.